Oopsy, the intimate chappie is either the next one or the fourth chapter; I'm so lame at estimation. But lucky you, it's safe to read this. It's for all ages! *Insert smiley face here, with googly eyes.*

I am Sophie daughter of Apollo

Thank you for that awesome review, congrats for being the first. Writing just gets me by through the day, something you'd understand, and to even think someone would like my stories makes me all giddy to write more.

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I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.

On Death's slow paced lead down the long passage to the underworld, Apollo suddenly stopped on the verge of following him, his foot dangling in mid air at the second thought of being deceived in his own game, this was, after all, Death. "Is something the matter?"

Apollo claimed his foot back under him, not moving an inch closer to his line of power, "I'll just stay here. You bring back Margaret with you, okay, man? And I'll wait right..." He stomped his foot, "here." And he childishly smiled out of the awkwardness of rejecting a meek invitation to go down the underworld; he's a god for crying out loud, the proud part of him argued.

"Apollo, I am not like your family, apart from ever innocent Artemis, unlike them, I you could trust." Death, feeling quite contented with the new picture he was certain Apollo was picturing because of his inspiring words, turned back on his path, "It gets darker at the bottom, Apollo. Once I fade from your sight," he stepped lower at each word, "I would be gone and consider our deal at end."

Apollo found Death's figure blending in with the darkness, and much to his discomfort, ran down after him. He smelled the disturbing scent immediately, "Damn, this place smells like a gutter, Death! It's putrid! How could you stay here?" Apollo squeezed his nose shut, breathing through his mouth so his voice sounded funny. "A guy with a face and body like yours should be out there, getting girls."

"Is that the only thing your mind is capable of conversing about, Apollo? Getting girls."

"Just because you can't get one doesn't mean you have to be a grumpy pants, De-" Apollo promptly collided with a concrete wall, he knew because his tongue lightly brushed the exterior, and absentmindedly proved his conclusions of how ugly the earth was, rather ugly-tasting, if such word existed. He spat out the sandy bits which brought in a wave of stinky underworld air into his nostrils again. "Are you sure I'm not dead yet?"

"Oh, at least, not yet." Death returned the sarcasm.

"Where are you anyway?" Apollo desperately patted the wall in front of him as his feet stretched around to feel the floor.

"It's a two way path, Apollo. Simply follow my voice."

"But the sounds are just bouncing against the walls in an echo, I can't really distinguish your direction!" Apollo heard the fading footsteps, and that got him nervous, crying like a little boy, "Death? Don't leave me! Death!" He whimpered after a sniff, "You know I hate the dark."

"Yes, I do. It's fun seeing you crumble, great god, maybe not so great." The steps died, and Death's voice boomed again, "to your left, Apollo."

"Thank you," Apollo turned and hurriedly went down the steps, almost clumsily while he rubbed his damp eyes, wondering if Death did this sort of thing to everyone; make them cry as he knew their deepest fears just for the fun of it.

A faint light began to stream upon the last couple steps and Apollo sighed of relief.

Landing into the room, Apollo got a vague view of it. The room was small, illuminated with lit candles here and there, no scary torches strapped to the walls, a clean smooth floor, probably marble or obsidian for it reflected the dark images of whoever stepped upon it. The walls were obviously concrete; Apollo could clearly note that under the last meeting he had with one of them.

However, one wall stretched in a mist before them, fogging a whole area of purple tinged smoke. Death raised an arm, gesturing expertly.

And then the love of Apollo's life appeared.

The beautiful face was softened in the most fragile of features, a nose tipped into a fine curve and her pink lips pursed into a pout but her body was long and benevolent and Apollo didn't think it was totally Eros's arrow doing the magic. He meant, who wouldn't fall in love with this attractive woman? In an instant, the peaceful expression of Margaret crunched in a grimace that looked as if she were trying to escape something.

"It's the nightmares." Death mentioned casually only to be cut in rudely by Apollo,

"Get her out! Now." Apollo felt his eyebrows burrowing low.

"Or," Death rolled his eyes at the god's unneeded over-reaction, throwing his hand in a whimsy circle, around and around, "I'll make it go away."

Slowly, the maiden's face changed back to serenity.

"Our deal," Apollo didn't want his love to spend one more minute in there, "give her to me."

Death began pacing, "A shame. This one happens to be one of my favorites."

"Really?" Apollo's blue eyes were disbelieving. "You keep favorites?"

"Only when they're special," Death smirked, "to other people, of course. I'm not as kind as you think I am, Apollo. I'm contended here with my job because it's interesting but most of the time, I am avoided. And so you're visit gave me a sense of importance to myself and the feeling was significant to me; until I realized you're true intentions."

Apollo kept quiet, staring at Margaret's soul peeling outward from the mist, half of her body already through, and keeping an ear half-awake to Death's dramatic speech.

"So you do realize my deep disappointment, don't you?"

Apollo managed a mumble, "uh-huh."

This made Death a lot more disappointed.

Review please!

Just keep reading! For the kiddy-kiddy –kids out there, I'll warn you on which chapter you can decide whether to read or not. But it won't be too intense or extreme for sure so it's really up to you.